Switching Sides
by DeannaJ1
Summary: All of this just because I couldn’t cancel Fullmetal’s leave early, I’m pretty sure everyone will think I’m an idiot and deserve my fate." AT-ish, EdRoy at the end. V3 now up. Look for Ordered Marriage later.


Warnings: genderswitch!Roy, mentions of human experimentation and Roy!torture, Fem!Roy/Ed at the end  
If you find any of these to be not to your liking please click back, or read at your own risk.

A.N. : This is the final version of Switching Sides. I got an A on my final project (Yeah, me!).  
I've also come up with the title for the expanded version of this story, "Ordered Marriage". If there's anything that you want to see more of, or explained in greater detail ask in your review.  
I decided to take down the first two drafts of this as it seems a bit demanding to make readers go through. Also my brain hit major writer's block since I finished my gen. ed. classes several months back, as the lack of any new posts shows. I honestly would adore anyone with questions, or suggestions for the chaptered version.

Final word count: 3,270

* * *

I went from being a womanizer to a woman.

Hawkeye suggested that writing a journal about the events surrounding this change would help me reconcile my feelings. I'm not entirely certain about that, but it might work. Coming to terms with the fact that I might permanently be female will likely take up more than one entry, or even just one journal.

I suppose I should listen to what Fullmetal's always spouting off, "You have two strong legs; get up, and move forward." Move forward I shall. Whether as the man I was or the woman I now am, I will always be Roy Mustang, Colonel and Flame Alchemist in the Amestris military.

Interesting is one way to look at the case that changed my life forever. The proper way of course is to see it as the moment when my life went sideways. The first thing is that if Fullmetal had been here in the office, instead of on leave, I wouldn't have had to go on the mission myself. I had spent two weeks tracking the rogue alchemists on paper to one quadrant of Central City. They were in a warehouse along the outskirts of the southwest part of the city. Idiot that I am, the moment I found the location I went straight to it and didn't let anyone else know where it was. Naturally, rushing in like a certain bratty blonde was not the best idea; I was captured by those I meant to arrest inside of five minutes of getting to their base.

I'm sure it was at the most a month that my life consisted of nothing more than snapshots of pain, terror, and unmitigated horror. The experiments alone (what I saw them to do other captives) were enough to put me in a catatonic state; but it was one truly sick, sadistic psychopath that truly made me retreat within my mind to escape him. Therefore, it seems that the gender-altering transmutation actually saved my life. Otherwise I would likely be sitting (or strapped to a bed) in a hospital room (perhaps, drooling on my pajamas) reliving for the rest of my life what that sick bastard did to me. There is no amount of persuasion that anyone can do to get me to write, or say, what happened during that time–not, thankfully, that there is much I can recall; repression is a wonderful thing.

My first real memory after the ordeal is opening my eyes to see Fullmetal standing in front of my closet rifling through our clothes, while I lay on the left side of my bed. Both of these facts were odd, as normally I slept on the right side, and tended to toss him a pair of jeans while pulling out my uniform. His uniform waiver from when he was twelve (and far too small to wear one anyway) still hadn't been revoked (he's still a bean sized alchemist). There have been times in these last few months that I have wished Hawkeye hadn't forced he and I to share my one bedroom apartment. Especially considering that if I–heaven forbid–roll against him in my sleep, he'd call me pervert for the rest of the day (only in front of my crew).

Looking away from him was the first time I noticed two odd lumps on my pajama-covered chest. I wasn't sure what they were, so decided to get Elric's attention by pushing up with my right arm to sit up against the headboard (as my left wrist was wrapped). Upon feeling the way these lumps moved as I sat up, I decided that I needed to check other areas before the hysteria took control of me. I threw the sheet from my waist to the foot of the bed, and looked down to find that one of my most prized possessions was gone; I couldn't help the fact that my screaming was definitely on a par with the best of the horror movie mavens. Fullmetal's hands (cool automail right and warm flesh left) on either side of my (rather stubble-free) face, and those deep golden eyes staring into my own, helped me calm down surprisingly quickly.

Hysterics over with, I now only needed assistance getting the strange–and very likely hospital issue–pajamas changed for some normal clothes; it was irritating to have to borrow one of Fullmetal's (old, much too tight for him) tank tops and a pair of his jeans, because mine kept falling from my hips. Over the tank I put one of my dress shirts, for my own sense of decency, so he would stop staring at my chest. I thought I had forgotten how to blush, but having a 17-year-old see my now female body, I think my black hair looked like it had red highlights I was blushing so much. And all of this happened just because I couldn't cancel Fullmetal's leave early. I'm pretty sure everyone will think I'm an idiot and deserve my fate.

Once I was dressed, we headed down the hall into the living room to sit (I on the couch; him pacing, back and forth, on the other side of the coffee table), as Fullmetal felt it a better place to talk.

I suppose one could call Fullmetal's report of what occurred during my capture enlightening. The first thing he reported was that he was given a field promotion to the rank of Lt. Colonel. Next, Elric arrived at Central HQ, about three weeks ago, to find my office staff in something of a minor uproar over my disappearance. The brass was too lazy to reroute my paperwork, so he got promoted to experience first hand just why I think all paperwork is pure evil (well maybe not his reports; those are fun to read). Of course, with this promotion he has stolen my record for the youngest ever promoted to rank of Lt. Colonel, by a margin of six years. ("I don't pout!")

Elric's certified genius managed to strike again, when he looked in at my office. He immediately began sorting out the mess on my desk, from case notes to random love confessions. Once he had all of my notes and the case file separated from everything else finding where I most likely was, was simple. Unlike me, Lt. Colonel Elric brought backup with him, in the form of 2nd Lt. Havoc and Breda, and Major Alex Louis Armstrong. Major Armstrong proved most useful at getting into the warehouse, and letting Elric get to me before the others could see me in that cage. My uniform was little more than tattered scraps that did nothing to hide what had become of me. Elric pulled off his red coat, and a quick transmutation later I had something resembling clothing. Edward carried me himself from the building to safety, telling me over and over, "You're going to be alright."

The blonde alchemist was blushing rather cutely by the time he concluded his report (and stopped in front of me). Er, did I just think that he was cute? I'm beginning to think that the estrogen now in my blood, or Hughes (with his look at how cute Elicia is), is starting to really affect my thinking.

We sat together on the couch in my living room/kitchen for a few minutes before Edward said that Hawkeye would probably know where to buy all the girly things I now needed. Naturally, Edward made me call Lt. Hawkeye myself, and inform her of the situation. She said that she would meet us at Harrington's downtown in 15 minutes. It wasn't 'til I hung up that I realized that I had dialed the office phone, not hers. (I had two seconds of pure joy that I finally had a legitimate reason for skipping work. Then reality set in. "I'm so dead.") Edward suggested that he go to the library down the street from the department store and leave me alone with her (traitor).

After he and I left the apartment I held on to his right arm as tightly as I could to force him to come inside with us. Riza looked at the way I was clinging to Edward and–with her typical logic–suggested that should anyone ask, I should give them a girl's name, which prompted an animated brain-storming session. The first name suggested was, 'Miss Annie Blankenship;' I vetoed it because it was too much to remember. In the end, my choice was 'Renee Mustang,' because it was simple and close enough to my real name that I would actually answer to it. Ed's opinion, on the other hand, was not needed or wanted at all (his suggestions were almost as bad as what Hawkeye named her dog).

When we got to the women's department I found that I may be female, but I definitely have limits to how feminine I will allow others to make me look (left to myself I'd probably still go to the men's department). The first "no" on my list was make-up and earrings: On the inside I'm still very much a guy, and proper male officers do not wear make-up or pierce their ears! Riza's smile as I pulled the now blushing teen away from the jewelry/make-up counter had me wondering what she was thinking. Next on my "no" list was anything that had even the slightest hint of ruffles (those were just not coming into contact with my body). Last, but most definitely not the least on what I won't wear are dresses; the couple that Hawkeye forced me try on just felt too strange, and I thought I looked stupid in them. Ed's snickers certainly didn't help either. As soon as the shopping trip was over and Edward and I were safely in my apartment putting my purchases away, I decided that shopping with First Lt. Riza Hawkeye was an experience that I definitely could have done without.

Three days later, on Monday, I borrowed one of Ed's spare uniforms (altered so that the rank insignia was right and one of his skivy shirts as neither of our dress shirts fit me right), so that we could go to headquarters without anyone looking at me strangely, but what happened in my office I can safely blame entirely on the new hormones–and even if I can't I will anyways. Actually seeing Edward in uniform is what made me realize that could no longer have just a sibling-esque relationship with him. ("I'm not drooling!")

Walking through the main gates at headquarters, I found people's reactions rather disillusioning. How can anyone not notice that I was shorter, thinner, and had _boobs_? Not a single person, officer or enlisted, stopped me from getting into my office, not even my own staff! Sitting at my desk for the first time in over a month I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Through seeing the leering smirk on Ed's face caused me to go with option three: a wide-eyed blush, deepening the closer the blonde got to me. My brain decided to kick in before he could take advantage of my sitting still, so I got up, moved in front of him and kissed him.

I never would have thought such a bookworm of an alchemist would actually be good at kissing, let alone want to be kissing me. The transmutation that altered my gender seemed to have put my height a bit closer to his; otherwise this might be awkward. Ed was just starting to move his hands from his sides to my waist, and I was beginning to think that maybe we should move this to the couch when I thought I heard the door opening (I ignored it).

It was the gasp from the doorway that made us realize that neither one of us had locked the door. Ed's hands at my waist (his automail was sure to leave a bruise) and mid-back tightened before I could see who it was. When I saw that it was Alphonse, I realized there must be some silent communication going on between the two–whether asking if it was alright to kiss me or date me, I couldn't tell what they were saying to each other. Ed's grip on me relaxed quite noticeably at the smile on his younger brother's face in what could only mean that we had his approval. (Which was good, as I'd hate to know what would happen if Al disapproved of us.)

The sudden cheers and catcalls let the three of us know that my staff was looking in through the doorway, along with a few others that I could see behind them. Riza seemed amused by the entire thing, if the slight smile I saw was any indication. The members of mine and Hughes's staffs, that Ed had nicknamed 'Mustang's minions,' seemed to be bemoaning the lack of likelihood that when I became Fuhrer I would be changing of all female officers' uniforms to include tiny miniskirts. (Havoc's ability to keep secrets was abysmal.)

Hughes himself, however, started going on about how cute Elicia would be as the flower girl at mine and Ed's wedding. Is it wrong that I really want to singe off Maes's hair at this? Ed and I just sat down on one of the couches in my office ignoring everyone, until Hughes asked what color the bridesmaid dresses would be. My irritation at Maes, finally certain that I was in a permanent relationship from one kiss, made me snap my fingers and they all bolted for cover–too bad I didn't have my gloves on.

Unfortunately, it made for the perfect time for an aide from the Fuhrer's office to come in, salute, and hand me a note; I just had to keep reminding myself that the latitudes given State Alchemists mitigated most of the truly negative consequences of my being in a relationship with Edward Elric. Ed and I both were summoned to appear before the Fuhrer at our earliest convenience–in other words shy of running we were to get there_ now_.

The moment Ed and I got to the doors to Fuhrer Blaize's office, they opened, revealing that the entire High Command was arrayed along the sides of his desk.

The way our superiors were standing strangely reminded me of looking in the closet mirror this morning, and seeing how my outward uniform clad appearance had changed. I felt a little disappointed, maybe, that I didn't look more obviously like a girl (as says Havoc says Boobs). The generals mostly seemed a bit bored at having to stand in the Fuhrer's office, though one or two looked a little confused as they glanced at me (perhaps at being told that I was now female).

Ed and I slowly walked about half the distance between the doors and the Fuhrer's desk before saluting and standing at attention. The note indicated that I must reveal (in a decent manner) to the brass the extent of my change in gender, so I asked permission and then removed my uniform jacket for all of the generals to easily see a form fitting, dark, short-sleeved shirt beneath.

Major General Hakuro, standing at about the middle of the generals to the Fuhrer's right, went wide-eyed, and then requested to express his opinion of my situation. The look of disgust on his face could have been from the rumors of my being a (man)-slut, which could now begin to hold truth (not likely), or simply from the fact that my shirt hugged my now slender frame rather well (he is old fashioned like that). The next thing he said made me think that he already was coming to terms with what happened to me. He said, "Colonel Mustang should put her uniform jacket back on, as it is unseemly for a female officer to be partially out of uniform before her superiors." He rounded out his opinion by saying that I should be allowed a lightened work load, so that I could fully research the possibility of reversing this (not that I really cared about being male again at this point). His sneer of disgust, turned at his fellow generals, surprised me for a moment before I remembered that he was old enough to be my father, and it must have disgusted him to see the predatory looks on most of the men there.

My old commander, Lt. General Grumman, stepped forward and saluted the Fuhrer before requesting to make a recommendation on mine and Edward's current predicament. He began by saying that there was actually precedence for marriage among the male and female State Alchemists who work closely with one another. Uh where was he going with this? (After all we'd only shared one kiss so far, and I'm pretty sure the brass doesn't know about it, yet.) I looked to the side at Ed to see the blonde's reaction, and his smirk–what I could see without turning completely–was positively the most evil expression I had ever seen, and I thought _I_ had an evil smirk! General Grumman finished with saying that it was better for the morale of the men (and women) if male and female alchemists were paired off if they had command over a large group in the field.

Fuhrer Blaize approved of this idea and ordered Ed and I to get married at the least in the next six months, but no earlier than three–after all he wouldn't want anyone thinking poorly of us. We saluted and left; once we had gotten within earshot of my office Ed said, "You know that the engagement order was more for those bastards than us." I had to agree with that since, with the exceptions of Hakuro and Grumman, most of the male (and a couple of the female) members of the brass had looked at me like a bunch of creepy perverts.

With the Fuhrer's approval we got engaged properly a week after the summons, mostly to be sure to keep the creepier members of the brass away from me. From the search for the rogue alchemists and my capture, to finding out my change in gender, shopping with Hawkeye, getting into a relationship with Ed, and then the brass being informed of it all, this has been the most interesting couple of months of my life. I have found that no matter where I am in life, I will always be myself, Roy Mustang.

It turned out that Hughes's planning for a wedding wasn't wasted after all. He and his wife helped Ed and I get everything sorted out, from invitations to what color dress I would wear at the reception. Neither Edward nor I wanted anything fancy, so wedding planning only took a week; thankfully I'm being given five more months before I have to walk down the aisle.

This female thing still gets to me what with social conventions being so much different for women than men. It seems that even women expect me to behave as though I weren't a military officer, but rather some delicate Xingian doll that looks pretty without doing much else. I still have trouble with anyone calling me _ma'am_ when Ed and I go out now, but I'm getting used to it. Ed is a great help in this, since all of the women in his life have been strong and more than capable of single-handedly settling a barroom brawl. If our positions were reversed, I think Ed would have a much more difficult time of it than I am.

* * *

A.N.: Thanks for reading this I really loved writing it. Even if was for my English comp. class.

Please review to let me know what you liked, hated, and/or want to know more about.


End file.
